


A Waltz in the Shadows

by tetralise



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Gen, Magic, Nintendo - Freeform, Ocarina of Time, Self-Discovery, Sheik is Zelda, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Sheik (Legend of Zelda), Transformation, Transgender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25252441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetralise/pseuds/tetralise
Summary: Eight-year-old Zelda is a child of duty and the heiress to the royal family. Unfortunately, the life of a princess doesn't interest her much; she'd much rather learn how to fight from her caretaker. But what all can she learn from Impa-- and will training curb her desires or will she long for more?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been meaning to work more on and (consequently post) for a long time-- hopefully finally moving it here from my google drive will inspire me to get working on more!
> 
> There's always been a debate with Sheik and what he looks like underneath his garb-- and honestly, the answer isn't important overall but it got me thinking more about Sheik as a character and exploring him from a trans perspective. I hope you enjoy a look at the beginning of his story!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this is just a short prologue, but I unfortunately have to list it as the first chapter, lol.

“Princess, you must. His Highness is waiting.”

The eight-year-old Zelda stared at the outfit on the bed in front of her. She had worn similar things before, but didn’t always favor them. She wasn’t entirely sure why; it wasn’t the fit, or the color, but something else that she couldn’t place. She hated the coif the most—it was feminine, but in a way she found matronly. So very unflattering.

“Can I not just wear this?” She turned to her handmaiden, gesturing. Her tunic, a deep blue, was a fair contrast to the clothes her aides had chosen for her.

As Impa knelt before the girl, her tone turned soft. “The king… your father… he finds such clothes unbecoming of a princess. You know this, Zelda.”

Zelda huffed. “What about what I want? It’s just a stupid din—“

Impa cut her off, placing a finger to the child’s lips. “This dinner is incredibly important for your father, and for the kingdom. You know the royal family are the peacekeepers of Hyrule, and part of that means they must meet with the leaders of other tribes. Do you understand?”

Looking back at the clothes that basked in the amber light of the setting sun, then into Impa’s deep red eyes, Zelda nodded, responding quietly. “I...suppose so…”

Impa stood. “Thank you, your highness. I will wait outside, and walk you to the dining hall when you are ready.”

The door shut gently behind her, and Zelda stared at the outfit once more.  
“I wonder…”

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Impa’s voice came muffled from the other side.  
“Princess?”  
Zelda observed herself in the mirror, poking an errant hair back underneath the pink band of her coif.  
“Yes Impa, I’m ready.”

Impa opened the door. “It’s best not to anger your father, so—“  
As she saw the princess, Impa stopped midsentence.

Most of Zelda’s appearance was that of pure, feminine royalty. The long, white dress reached to the floor, obscuring most of her frame. On her coif was adorned the insignia of the Triforce, which her family was entrusted to protect. The pink tabard overlaying her dress, decorated in ornate red and gold stitching, bore that family’s crest— a large, red bird, looking ever skyward.

And covering the length of her arms beneath the dress, instead of the lengthy white silk gloves she had been provided, were the long, blue sleeves of the tunic Zelda had been wearing earlier.

Impa closed her eyes, exasperated, and took a long, deep breath.

“Well… we should be going, then.”


	2. Yearning for More

The clanging of swords rang through the courtyard.

It was early morning-- the sun had not long crossed the horizon, and a small group of Hylian knight recruits were training at the behest of their commander. Times had been peaceful, but a lax guard was a defenseless one. The young men were paired off, practicing their technique against one another. Two dozen feet above, watching from the parapets, was Zelda. 

The young princess did this on a regular basis, going out first to witness the sunrise and bask in its splendor, then watch the soldiers train.. She took in every motion--a dodge right, a defensive stance--she felt confident in herself, though any adult would see her as no more than a child playing pretend. Sometimes, she would even bring a small staff out with her to mirror techniques. This was one such day.

As she imitated a parry and riposte from above, one of the many recruits took notice of her. The princess smiled and waved, and as he returned the gesture he was taken by surprise, knocked flat onto his back by the older knight he was training with.

“ _Never_ take your eyes off an opponent, boy!” the man shouted. “You’ll be run through in an instant if you get distracted like that on the field.” He grabbed the boy’s wrist and pulled him back up to his feet.

“B-but the princess--” the recruit began to stammer.

“The _princess_ is who you’re sworn to protect! You can’t go being distracted from that!”

As the commotion died down, Zelda continued envisioning a new reality for herself. She wasn’t a child in a castle; she was a _hero_ , fighting off hordes of goblins that were closing in on a young, scared prince. She was proud of her footwork, jumping back and then swinging, before pointing her staff toward the ground of the walkway as if threatening a downed, invisible foe. “I’ve got you this time!” she chimed.

“Are you sure about that?”

The calm voice inquired from only a few feet behind her. Zelda froze, slowly lowering her staff. As her shoulders slumped, she slowly turned and acknowledged her caretaker. “Good morning, Impa…”

* * *

The two stood on the upper wall, facing the courtyard. For the first time in weeks, though, Zelda wasn’t watching; rather, she was looking down at her feet, frustrated. She was certain that having been caught meant a tighter guard on where she went and when. After an uncomfortable length of time, she spoke.

“Impa? ...I would like to learn the sword as well.”

Her keeper remained stoic-- her arms were crossed, and she was watching the knights intently. A moment passed, and there was no response. With a bit more hesitation in her voice, Zelda began again.

“Impa, I--”

“Absolutely not.” Her gaze did not leave the recruits below. Zelda turned, demanding an explanation.

“But--”

“Your highness, there is no need for a girl of your age to be learning the violence of the blade. Even were our kingdom at war, your father would never allow it.”

Zelda winced. _A girl of your age._ _Your father would never allow it._ Surely, a _prince_ of the king’s blood would be allowed to learn. It just wasn’t fair. “I want to learn to defend myself. What happens if I end up alone? What if... something happens to _you?_ ”

She had heard the tales of legend, both real and fantasy-- of princesses being kidnapped by large, primal beasts, held at the top of towers or locked in a dungeon, with no choice but to await a hero. She could not imagine a more miserable life-- although, admittedly, sometimes her life as a princess didn’t feel too far off.

“Impa, please…” Zelda pleaded. “If you will not teach me how to fight, then… ...then at least teach me to defend.” She 

Impa closed her eyes and sighed. After a moment, she turned and knelt before the princess, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her touch was gentle, but commanding. “Before the sun rises tomorrow,” she conceded, “you will meet me in the chapel. But tell no one.”

Zelda’s eyes lit up, though she tried to hide it and appear composed and honored. “Yes, Impa, I shall. Early tomorrow morn, before the sun breaks.”

* * *

The chapel door creaked open, echoing through the castle’s silent hallways, and the young princess stepped into the aisle. Moonlight bathed the pews and carpet, as well as the figure standing before the pulpit. In the pale blue light, Impa’s sharp features were accented; shadows cast across her face and arms made her seem gaunt, and all the more threatening. Zelda continued down the aisle, an indigo bride in a flowing bedgown.

“Good morning, Im--” Zelda began, before being immediately cut off.

“Take a seat.”

Zelda looked to either side, and began toward a pew. Sharply, Impa stopped her.

“In the aisle, where you stood.”

She paused, confused, then slowly lowered herself onto her knees before her guardian. After a moment, Impa continued, closing her eyes.

“Do you recall the stories I’ve told you of the Shiekah, princess?”

Zelda nodded. “The Sheikah served the goddess Hylia, and by her will served Hyrule’s Royal Family, even going so far as to protect them in the great war.”

“Continue.” Impa did not move. The chapel was entirely silent, save for their voices.

“They.. the Sheikah were nearly wiped out during the war. They were overwhelmed by enemy forces, despite their practice in abilities considered unnatural by man.”

“Explain.”

“They stationed themselves in the mountain village of Kakariko, but the town was ambushed from the northeast pass--”

Impa’s brow furrowed, though she did not open her eyes. “The _abilities,_ princess.”

“Oh…” Zelda paused, feeling naive. Of course Impa wouldn’t need to know the details of how her people went all but extinct. For her, it was likely a relatively fresh wound… not that she would allow it to show. “The… Sheikah had skill with illusion magic, manipulating the senses of their enemies. They were able to disguise themselves as ordinary Hylians, or move in near absolute silence… when surrounded, they could vanish in an instant with the use of smoke and lights .”

“And why,” Impa inquired, “were the Sheikah able to do this?” She began slowly pacing around the princess. “Focus!”

Zelda, whose eyes had begun to follow her mentor, sat at attention once more. “Th-... the Sheikah share ancestry with the goddess’s chosen people… because of this, the ability to use magic runs well within their blood, deeper than most.” As she said these words aloud, a voice surfaced in the back of her thoughts: _Am I to learn magic?_

Nearly as soon as this crossed her mind, Impa’s footsteps fell silent. In the dark emptiness of the aisle, Zelda’s own breaths sounded to herself like that of a great dragon, guarding a vast fortune.

“That is all for tonight. Back to bed, princess.” Impa’s voice cut through the darkness from behind.

“But, Impa!” the child protested, spinning around. “I thought you were going to-- …Impa?” 

As her eyes tried to focus on the corners of the room where the soft moonlight didn’t quite reach, Zelda huffed. She was alone amongst the pews. “You didn’t have to leave, you know…”

* * *

Dejected, the princess slipped silently through the halls once more, and back to her room. _Impa said she would teach me,_ she thought. _That wasn’t anything but another history lesson… It’s just not fair._ The door clicked shut quietly, and as she turned to her bed, Zelda froze. 

She hadn’t made her bed again before sneaking to the chapel, and yet there it was, sheets immaculate and tucked. Nestled amongst her pillows was a small, red book. She picked it up, inspecting its worn binding, and peered beneath the blank cover, which masked a small slip of paper-- a note, written in familiar handwriting.

_Some reading before our next session._

Zelda smiled and looked down at the title page, which was scrawled in a hardly legible script:

**ARTES IN UMBRA**


End file.
